The other two were considerably
younger--they seemed to Nehal Singh almost boys, though in all
probability they were his own age. One especially interested him. He
was a good-looking young fellow, with pleasant if somewhat effeminate
features and a healthy skin bronzed with the Indian sun. He sat
directly opposite where Nehal Singh stood in the shadow, and when he
shifted his cards, as he often did in a restless, uneasy way, he gave
the unseen watcher an opportunity to study every line of his set face.
Nehal Singh wondered at his expression. The others were grave with the
gravity of indifference, but this boy had his teeth set, and something
in his eyes reminded Nehal Singh of a dog he had once seen confronted
suddenly with an infuriated rattle-snake. It was the expression of
hypnotized fear which held him back from intruding himself upon them,
and he was about to retrace his steps quietly when the man who was
seated next the balustrade turned and glanced so directly toward him
that Nehal Singh thought his presence was discovered. The officer's
next words showed, however, that his gaze had passed over Nehal
Singh's head to the brightly lighted marquee on the other side of the
compound.
"I'm glad to be out of that crush," Captain Webb said, as he lazily
gathered up his cards. "Fearfully rotten show I call it--not a pretty
girl among the lot, and a heat enough to make the devil envious! I
can't think what induced our respected Napoleon to make such a fool of
himself.
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